Discipline: A Novel

CHAPTER XXVII.

In the morning, when I opened my eyes, Juliet was so peacefully
still, that I listened doubtfully for her breathing; and felt
myself relieved by the certainty that she was alive, I was
astonished to find that she was awake, though so composed; and
was wondering at this unaccountable change, when she suddenly
asked me whether Dr. ---- was reckoned a man of any skill in
his profession? "for," said she, "he seemed to know nothing at
all of my disorder, except what he learnt from myself; so most
likely he mistakes it altogether." Shocked to see her thus obstinately
cling to the broken reed, yet wanting courage to wrest it
from her hold, I entreated her to consider that it would not add
to the justice of Dr. ----'s fears, if she should act as though they
were well founded; nor shorten her life, if she should hasten to
accomplish whatever she would wish to perform ere its close. She
was silent for a little; then, with a deep sigh, "You are right,"
said she. "Sit down, and I will dictate a letter, which you shall
write, to my brother."

I obeyed; and she began to dictate with wonderful precision a
letter, in which she detailed the opinion of her counsel; named
the persons who could evidence her claims; and dexterously
appealed to the ruling passion of Mr. Arnold, by reminding him,
that if he could establish the legitimacy of his nephew, he must, in
case of Lord Glendower's death, become the natural guardian of
a youth possessed of five-and-twenty thousand pounds a year.
Who could observe without a sigh, that, while with a sort of
instinctive tact she addressed herself to the faults of others, she
remained in melancholy blindness to her own; and that the
transient strength which the morning restored to her mind, could
not reach her more than childish improvidence in regard to her
most important concerns? But her powers were soon exhausted;
before the letter was finished, her thoughts wandered, and she
lay for some hours as if in a sort of waking dream.

How little do they know of a death-bed who have seen it only
in the graceful pictures of fiction! How little do they guess the
ghastly horrors of sudden dissolution, the humiliating weakness
of slow decay! Paint them even from the life, and much remains
to tell which no spectator can record, much which no language
can unfold. "Oh, who that could see thee thus," thought I, as I
looked upon the languid, inexpressive countenance of the once
playful Juliet,--"who that could see thee thus, would defer to an
hour like this, the hard task of learning to die with decency?"

I was sitting by the bed-side of my companions, supporting
with one hand her poor deserted baby, and making with the other
an awkward attempt to sketch designs for the ornaments which I
had undertaken to paint, when the door was gently opened; and
the lady for whom I was employed entered, followed by another,
whose appearance instantly fixed my attention. Her stature was
majestic; her figure of exquisite proportion. Her complexion,
though brunette, was admirably transparent; and her colour,
though perhaps too florid for a sentimental eye, glowed with the
finest tints of health. Her black eye-brows, straight but flexible,
approached close to a pair of eyes so dark and sparkling, that
their colour was undistinguishable. No simile in oriental poetry
could exaggerate the regularity and whiteness of her teeth; nor
painter's dream of Euphrosyne exceed the arch vivacity of her
smile. Perhaps a critic might have said that her figure was too
large, and too angular for feminine beauty; that it was finely, but
not delicately formed. Even I could have wished the cheek-bones
depressed, the contour somewhat rounded, and the lines made
more soft and flowing. But Charlotte Graham had none of that
ostentation of beauty which provokes the gazer to criticise.

Her face, though too handsome to be a common one, struck me
at first sight as one not foreign to my acquaintance. When her
companion named her, I recollected my friend Cecil; and there
certainly was a family likeness between these relations, although
the latter was a short square-built personage, with no great pretensions
to beauty. The expressions of the two countenances were
more dissimilar than the features. Cecil's was grave, penetrating,
and, considering her age and sex, severe; Miss Graham's was
arch, frank, and animated. Yet there was in the eye of both a keen
sagacity, which seemed accustomed to look beyond the words of the
speaker to his motive.

The deep mourning which Miss Graham wore accounted to me
for the cast of sorrow which often crossed a face formed by nature
to far different expression. Her manners had sufficient freedom
to banish restraint, and sufficient polish to make that freedom
graceful; yet for me they possessed an interesting originality.
They were polite, but not fashionable; they were courtly, but not
artificial. They were perfectly affable, and as free from arrogance
as those of a doubting lover; yet in her mien, in her gait, in every
motion, in every word, Miss Graham showed the unsubdued
majesty of one who had never felt the presence of a superior; of
one much accustomed to grant, but not to solicit indulgence.

Such were the impressions which I had received, almost as soon
as Miss Graham's companion, with a polite apology for their
intrusion, had introduced her to me by name. I was able to make
the necessary compliment without any breach of sincerity; for
feebler attractions would have interested me in the person with
whom Cecil had already made me so well acquainted. But when
Miss Graham spoke, her voice alone must have won any hearer.

"If Miss Percy excuses us," said she in tones, which, in spite of
the lively imperative accents of her country, were sweetness itself,
"my conscience will be quite at rest, for I am persuaded it is with
her that my business lies. No two persons could answer the
description."

"You may remember," said her companion, smiling at my surprised
and inquisitive look, "I yesterday mentioned a friend who
was in search of a young lady of your name. We are now in hopes
that her search ends in you; and this must be our apology for a
great many impertinent questions."

"Oh! no," said Miss Graham, "one will be sufficient. Suffer me
only to ask who were your parents."

I answered the question readily and distinctly. "Then," said
Miss Graham, with a smile, which at once made its passage to my
heart, "I have the happiness to bring you a pleasant little surprise.
My brother has been so fortunate as to recover a debt due to Mr.
Percy. He has transmitted it hither; and Sir William Forbes will
honour your draft for 1500L."

There are persons who will scarcely believe that I at first heard
this intelligence with little joy. "Alas!" thought I, looking at
poor Juliet, "it has come too late." But recollecting that I was
not the less indebted to the kindness of my benefactors, I turned
to Miss Graham, and offered, as I could, my warm acknowledgments.
Miss Graham assured me, with looks which evinced sincerity,
that she was already more than repaid for the service she
had rendered me; and prevented further thanks, by proceeding in
her explanation.

"My brother," said she, "traced you to the house of a Miss
Mortimer, and from thence to Edinburgh; but here he lost you;
and being himself at a distance, he commissioned me to search for
you. I received some assistance from a very grateful protegee of
yours and mine, whom I dare say you recollect by the name of
Cecil Graham. She directed me to the Boswells; but they pretended
to know nothing of you: so I came to town a few days ago,
very much at a loss how to proceed, though determined not to see
Glen Eredine again till I found you."

"And is it possible," exclaimed I, "that I have indeed excited
such generous interest in strangers?"

"Call me stranger, if you will," said Miss Graham, "provided
you allow that the name gives me a right to a kind reception. But
do you include my brother under that title? I am sure the description
he has given of you shows that he is, at least, well acquainted
with your appearance."

"The dimple and the black eye-lashes tally exactly," said her
companion. "And I could swear to the smile," returned Miss
Graham. "Nevertheless," said I, "it is only from the praises of
his admirer, Cecil, that I know Mr. Kenneth Graham, to whom I
presume I am so much indebted."

The playful smile, the bright hues of health, vanished from
Charlotte's face; and her eyes filled with tears. "No," said she,
"it is not to--" She paused, as if to utter the name had been
an effort beyond her fortitude. "It is Mr. Henry Graham," said
her companion, as if to spare her the pain of explanation, "who has
been so fortunate as to do you this service."

I know not exactly why, but my heart beat quicker at this intelligence.
I had listened so often to Cecil's prophecies, and omens,
and good wishes, that I believe I felt a foolish kind of consciousness
at the name of this Henry Graham, and the mention of my
obligation to him.

"Have you no recollection then of ever having met with Henry?"
inquired Miss Graham, recovering herself.

I rubbed my forehead and did my very utmost; but was
obliged to confess that it was all in vain. The rich Miss Percy
had been so accustomed to crowds of attending beaux, that my eye
might have been familiar with his appearance, while his name was
unknown to me.

"Well," said Miss Graham, "I can vouch for the possibility of
remembering you for ever after a very transient interview; and
when you know Henry better, I dare say you will not forget him."

We now talked of our mutual acquaintance, Cecil; which led
Miss Graham to comment upon the peculiar manners of her
countrymen, and upon the contrast which they offered to those of
the Lowland Scotch. Though her conversation upon this, and other
subjects, betrayed no marks of extraordinary culture, it discovered
a native sagacity, a quickness and accuracy of observation, which
I have seldom found surpassed. Her visit was over before I
guessed that it had lasted nearly two hours; and so great were
her attractions, so delightful seemed the long untasted pleasures
of equal and friendly converse, that I thought less of the unexpected
news which she had brought me, than of the hour which
she fixed for her return.

My thoughts, indeed, no sooner turned towards my newly acquired
riches, than I perceived that they could not, with any shadow
of justice, be called mine; and that they in truth belonged to those
who had suffered by the misfortunes of my father. I therefore resolved
to forget that the money was within my reach; and to
labour as I should have done, had no kind friend intended my relief.
Still this did not lessen my sense of obligation; and
gratitude enlivened the curiosity which often turned my speculations
towards Henry Graham. Once as I kept my solitary watch
over Juliet's heavy unrefreshing slumbers, I thought I recollected
hearing her, and some of our mutual acquaintance, descant upon
the graces of an Adonis, who, for one night, had shone the meteor
of the fashionable hemisphere, and then been seen no more. I had
been present at his appearance, but too much occupied with Lord
Frederick to observe the wonder. I afterwards endeavoured to
make Juliet assist my recollection; but her memory no longer
served even for much more important affairs; and all my
efforts ended at last in retouching the pictures which I had
accustomed myself to embody of this same Henry Graham.
I imagined him with more than his sister's dignity of form and
gesture,--with all her regularity of feature, and somewhat of her
national squareness of contour,--with all the vivacity and intelligence
of her countenance, strengthened into masculine spirit and
sagacity,--with the eye which Cecil had described as able to quell
even the sallies of frenzy,--with the smile which his sister could
send direct to the heart. At Charlotte's next visit I obliged her
to describe her brother, and I had guessed so well that she only
improved my picture by adding some minuter strokes to the likeness.

At the same time she removed all my scruples in regard to appropriating
the sum which he had obtained for me, by assuring
me, that he had undertaken the recovery of the debt only upon
this express condition, that half the amount should belong to me;
and that to this condition the creditors had readily consented.

The possession of this little fortune soon became a real blessing;
for Juliet's increasing helplessness loaded my time with a
burden which almost precluded other labour. She was emaciated
to a degree which made stillness and motion alike painful to her;
a restless desire of change seemed the only human feeling which
the hand of death had not already palsied; and a childish sense
of her dependence upon me was the sole wreck of human affection
which her decay had spared. Even the fear of death subsided
into the listless acquiescence of necessity. Yet no nobler solicitudes
seemed to replace the waning interests of this life. Feeble
as it was, her mind yet retained the inexplicable power to exclude
thoughts of overwhelming force.

I had seen the inanity of her life; I had, alas! shared in her
mad neglect of all the serious duties, of all the best hopes of man; and
I did not dare to see her die in this portentous lethargy of soul.
At every short revival of her strength, or transient clearness of
her intellect, I spoke to her of all which I most desired to impress
upon her mind. At first she answered me by tears and complainings,
then by a listless silence; nor did better success attend the
efforts of persons more skilled in rousing the sleeping conscience.
The eloquence of friend and pastor was alike unavailing to extort
one tear of genuine penitence; for the energy was wanting,
without which a prophet might have smitten the rock in vain.

I must have been more or less than human, could my spirits have
resisted the influence of a scene so dreary as a death-chamber
without hope; yet when I saw my companion sinking to an untimely
grave, closing a life without honour in a death without
consolation; when I remembered that we had begun our career of
folly together,--that, from equal wanderings, I had alone been
restored,--from equal shipwrecks, I had alone escaped,--I felt
that I had reason to mingle strong gratitude for what I was, with
deep humiliation for what I might have been!

It was now that I became sensible of the treasure which I had
found in Charlotte Graham. Taught by experience, I had at first
yielded with caution to the attraction of her manners; and often
(though in her absence only I must own) remembered with a sigh
how many other qualities must conspire to fit the companion for
the friend. But now, when she daily forsook admiration, and
gaiety, and elegance, to share with me the cares of a sick-chamber,
I daily felt the benefits of her piety, discretion, and sweetness
of temper; and a friendship began, which, I trust, will outlast
our lives.

Although she had too much of the politeness of good feeling to
hint an expectation that I should forsake my unhappy charge, she
constantly spoke of my visiting Castle Eredine, as of a pleasure
which she could not bear to leave in uncertainty; and she detailed
plans for our employments, for our studies, for our excursions
among her native hills, with a minuteness which showed how
much the subject occupied her mind. All her plans bore a constant
reference to Glen Eredine. They were incapable of completion
elsewhere. My lessons on the harp were to be given under the
rock of echoes, in a certain cave she was to teach me the songs of
Selma,--we were to climb Benarde together,--from Dorch'thalla
we were to sketch the lake beyond, with all its mountain shadows
on its breast; while the rocks which a nameless torrent had severed
from the cliff, and the roots which, with emblematic constancy, had
still clung to them in their fall, were to furnish fore-grounds unequalled
in the tameness of Lowland scenery.

To all the objects round her native vale, Charlotte's imagination
seemed to lend a kind of vitality. She loved them as I should
have loved an animated being; and the more characteristic, or, as
I should then have expressed it, the more savage they were, the
stronger seemed their hold on her affection. I like a little innocent
prejudice, so long as it does not thwart my own. I verily believe,
that Charlotte would have thought Glen Eredine insulted by a
comparison to the vale of Tempe. She often spoke with enthusiastic
respect of her father, whom she had left at Castle Eredine;
and with so much solicitude of the blank which her absence would
occasion to him, that I could not help wondering why she delayed
her return. She never mentioned any business that might detain
her; and amusement could not be her bribe, for her time was
chiefly spent in my melancholy dwelling.

Our cheerless task, however, at length was closed. By a
change scarcely perceptible to us, Juliet passed from the lethargy
of exhausted life to deeper and more solemn repose. I felt the
intermitting pulse,--I watched the failing breath; yet so gradually
and so complete was her decay, that I knew not the moment of her
departure. All suffering she was spared; for suffering would to
human apprehension, have been useless to her. I did not commit
her remains to the cares of a stranger. The hand of a friend
composed her for her last repose; the tears of a friend dropped
upon her clay; but they were not the tears of sorrow. Poor Juliet!
Less ingenuity than that which led thee through a degraded life to
an unlamented grave would have procured for thee the best which
this world has to give, an unmolested passage to a better.

Two days after her death, I received from her brother a promise
of protection to the heir of Lord Glendower, and permission, in
case of that event, to send the boy to his uncle, together with the
pledges of legitimacy, which constituted his sole hold upon the
justice or compassion of Mr. Arnold. Fortunately for the poor
infant, the question upon which depended the tender cares of his
uncle was decided in his favour. Juliet's marriage was sanctioned;
and though her death left Lord Glendower at liberty to repair, in
some sort, the injury which he had done to Lady Maria, the rights
of his first-born son could not be transferred to the children of his
more regular marriage.

When my cares were no longer necessary to my ill-fated companion,
I yielded to the kind persuasions of Miss Graham; and
suffered her to introduce me to whatever was most worthy of
observation in a city which I had as yet so imperfectly seen. Our
mornings were generally spent in examining the town or its
environs; our evenings in a kind of society which I had till now
known only in detached specimens; a society in which there was
every thing to delight, though nothing to astonish,--much good
manners, and therefore little singularity,--general information,
and therefore little pedantry,--much good taste, and therefore
little notoriety. I could no longer complain that the ladies were
inaccessible. Introduced by Miss Graham, I was every where
received with more than courtesy; and I, who a few weeks before
could scarcely obtain permission to earn a humble subsistence, was
now overwhelmed with a hospitality which scarcely left me the
command of an hour.

And now I was again assailed by the temptation which had
formerly triumphed unresisted. There is no place on earth where
beauty is more surely made dangerous to its possessor; and Charlotte
and I could scarcely have attracted more attention had we
appeared mounted upon elephants. But I had lost my taste for
admiration. I disliked the constant watchfulness which it imposed
upon me; and its pleasures poorly compensated the pain of
upbraiding myself the next moment with my folly in being so
pleased. As to open compliment, it cost me an effort to answer it
with good humour. "The man suspects that I am vain," thought
I, as often as I was so addressed; and the suspicion was too near
truth to be forgiven. The only real satisfaction which I derived
from the preposterous homage paid to me, arose from the new
light in which it displayed the generous nature of Charlotte Graham.
Yes; trifles serve to display a great mind; and there was
true generosity in the graceful willingness with which Charlotte,
at a time of life when the precariousness of attentions begin to
give them value, withdrew from competition with a rival inferior
to her in every charm which is not affected by seven years difference
of age.

Upon the whole, nothing could be more agreeably amusing than
my residence in Edinburgh; and the contrast of my late confinement
heightened pleasure to delight. From the time of Lady
Glendower's death, it had been settled that I was to accompany
Charlotte to Glen Eredine; but I must own that I felt no inclination
to hasten our departure. Without once uttering a word,
which could place the delay to my account, Miss Graham deferred
our departure from day to day. Yet some involuntary look or
expression constantly betrayed to me, that her heart was in Glen
Eredine.

"Ah, that very sun is setting behind Benarde!" said she with a
sigh, one evening when, from a promenade such as no other city
can present, we were contemplating a gorgeous sunset.

"One would imagine by that sigh, Charlotte," said I, smiling,
"that you and some dear friend not far from Bernarde had made
an appointment to watch the setting sun together."

"There's a flight!" cried she, laughing. "Now am I sure that
such a fancy would never have entered your mind, if you had
not been in love. Come, look me in the face, and let me catechise
you."

"Not guilty, upon my honour."

"Humph! This does look very like a face of innocence, I
confess. But stay till you know Henry. Let me see how you
will stand examination then."

"Just as I do now, I promise you. I ought to have been in
love long ago, if the thing had been possible."

"Ought? Pray, what might impose the duty upon you?"

"The regard of one of the best and wisest of mankind, Charlotte.
It was once my fate to draw the attention of your countryman,
the generous, the eloquent Mr. Maitland."

I saw Miss Graham start, but she remained silent. "You
must have heard of him?" continued I; but at that moment,
casting my eyes upon Charlotte, I saw her blush painfully. "You
know him, then?" said I.

"Yes I--I do," answered she, hesitatingly; and walked on in
a profound reverie.

A long silence followed; for Charlotte's blushes and abstraction
had told me a tale in which I could not be uninterested. I perceived
that her acquaintance with Maitland, however slight, had
been sufficient to fix her affections on a spirit so congenial to her
own. "Well, well," thought I, "they will meet one day or
other; and he will find out that she likes him, and the discovery
will cost him trouble enough to make it worth something. She
will devote herself willingly to love and solitude, which is just
what he wishes, and I dare say they will be very happy. Men
can be happy with any body. And yet Maitland hates beauties;
and Miss Graham certainly is a beauty." However, when I threw
a glance upon Charlotte, I thought I had never seen her look so
little handsome; for it must be confessed that the lover must be
more than indifferent whom his old mistress can willingly resign
to a new one.

I soon, however, began to reproach myself with the uneasiness
to which I was subjecting the generous friend to whom I owed
such varied forms of kindness. But the difficulty was, how I
should return to the subject which we had quitted; for, in
spite of the frankness of Charlotte's manners, my freedom with
her had limits which were impassable. When she had once
indicated the point upon which she would not be touched, I
dared not even to approach it. The silence, therefore, continued
till she interrupted it by saying, "You are offended with me,
Ellen, and you have reason to be so; for I put a question which
no friend has a right to ask."

"Dear Charlotte," returned I, "surely you have a right to
expect from me any confidence that you will accept; and I
shall most readily--"

"No," interrupted Miss Graham, "such questions as mine
ought neither to be asked nor answered. If an attachment is
fortunate, it is to be supposed that the event will soon publish it;
if not, the confession is a degradation to which no human being has
a right to subject another."

"Well," thought I, "this is very intelligible, and I shall take
care not to trespass. But I will not keep thy generous heart in
pain. Cost what it will, thou shalt know that thou hast nothing
to fear from me." It was more easy to resolve than to execute;
and I felt my cheek glow with blushes, more, I fear, of pride than
modesty, while I struggled to relieve the anxiety of my friend.
"Nay, Charlotte," said I, "you must listen to a confession which
is humbling enough, though not exactly of the kind you allude to.
I must do Mr. Maitland the justice to say, that he never put it in
my power to reject him. He saw that I was no fit wife for him;
and, at the very moment of confessing his weakness, he renounced
it for ever. Do not look incredulous. It is not a pretty face, nor
even the noble fortune I then expected, that could bribe Maitland
to marry a heartless, unprincipled--. Thanks be to Heaven
that I am changed--greatly changed. But I assure you, Charlotte,
I have not now the slightest reason to believe myself any
bar to your--to Mr. Maitland's happiness with some--some--somebody
who has not my unlucky incapacity for being in
love."

To this confession, Miss Graham answered only by affectionately
pressing my hand; and then escaped from the subject, by
turning from me to speak to a passing acquaintance. From that
time, Charlotte, though in other points perfectly confiding, spoke
no more of Maitland; and I must own, that my respect for her
was increased by her reserve upon a topic prohibited alike by
delicacy and discretion. We had, indeed, no need of boarding-school
confidences to enliven our intercourse. Each eager for
improvement and for information, we had been so differently
educated, that each had much to communicate and to learn. Our
views of common subjects were different enough to keep conversation
from stagnating; while our accordance upon more important
points formed a lasting bond of union. Whoever understands
the delights of a kitten and a cork, may imagine that I was
at times no bad companion, and Charlotte was peculiarly fitted
for a friend; for she had sound principles, unconquerable sweetness
of temper, sleepless discretion, and a politeness which followed
her into the homeliest scenes of domestic privacy.

How often, as her character unfolded itself, did I wonder what
strange fatality had forbidden Maitland to return the affection of a
woman so formed to satisfy his fastidious judgment. But I was
forced to wonder in silence. Charlotte, open as day on every
other theme, was here as impenetrable, as unapproachable, as
virgin dignity could make her. Notwithstanding the recency of
our friendship, it was already strong enough to render every other
interest mutual; and Charlotte easily drew from me the little story
of my life and sentiments, while I listened with insatiable curiosity
to the accounts she gave me of her home, of her family, and, above
all, of her brother Henry.

This was a theme in which she seemed very willing to indulge
me. She spoke of him frequently; and the passages which she
read to me from his letters often made me remember with a sigh
that I had no brother. He seemed to address her as a friend, as
an equal; and yet with the tenderness which difference of sex
imposes upon a man of right feeling. She was his almoner.
Through her he transmitted many a humble comfort to his native
valley; and though he had been so many years an alien, he was
astonishingly minute and skilful in the direction of his benevolence.
He appeared to be acquainted with the character and
situation of an incredible number of his clansmen; and the interest
and authority with which he wrote of them seemed little less
than patriarchal. Though I must own that his commands were
not always consonant to English ideas of liberty, they seemed
uniformly dictated by the spirit of disinterested justice and
humanity; and Graham, in exercising almost the control of an
absolute prince, was guided by the feelings of a father.

Though Glen Eredine seemed the passion of his soul--though
every letter was full of the concerns of his clansmen--there was
nothing theatrical in his plans for their interest or improvement.
They were minute and practicable, rather than magnificent. No
whole communities were to be hurried into civilization, nor districts
depopulated by way of improvement; but some encouragement
was to be given to the schoolmaster; Bibles were to be distributed
to his best scholars; or Henry would account to his father
for the rent of a tenant, who, with his own hands, had reclaimed
a field from rock and broom; or, at his expense, the new cottages
were to be plastered, and furnished with doors and sashed windows.
The execution of these humble plans was, for the present,
committed to Charlotte; and the details which she gave me concerning
them described a mode of life so oddly compounded of
refinement and simplicity, that curiosity somewhat balanced my
regret in leaving Edinburgh.

On a fine morning in September we began our journey; and
though I was accompanied by all on earth I had to love, and
though I was leaving what had been to me the scene of severe
suffering, I could not help looking back with watery eyes upon a
place which, perhaps, no traveller, uncertain of return, ever
quitted without a sigh.

This presentation of Discipline: A Novel, by Mary Brunton
is Copyright 2003 by P.J. LaBrocca.
It may not be copied, duplicated,
stored or transmitted in any form without written permission.
The text is in the public domain.